Dance of Petals
by Razorblade Mistress
Summary: "There was a time when Pearl fancied catching the dancing blossom petals of Earth in the wind. They were soft in her hands and smooth like polished stone, rolling at the edges into pallid pink curls. She would cradle them gently in her grasp, inhaling deeply their light, sweet fragrance." But there are dreams that cannot be. Oneshot.


There was a time when Pearl, during a prior period that could have perhaps been considered her "youth", fancied catching the dancing blossom petals of Earth in the wind. They were soft in her hands and smooth like polished stone, rolling at the edges into pallid pink curls. She would cradle them gently in her grasp, inhaling deeply their light, sweet fragrance. When she released, their dance was nearly as lively as though it had never been interrupted, continuing along their preassigned, calculated path toward rest upon the ground.

Certainly, the Crystal Gem at that time hadn't a true understanding of what exactly she was giving up by choosing to fight by Rose Quartz's side. Yet when it arose, the gravity of her decision did not matter. No consequences could be dire enough to dissuade her. She had, longer ago still, personally acknowledged that Rose was the beginning and the end. There was no question. The idea of staring her own demise in the face would not have convinced her; if it meant that Rose could thrive, she would do whatever it took.

Thus, when the heat of war finally ignited its flames, a conscious clarity came to her that had been simply lying dormant before. Pearl had rejected and resisted the intentions of her birth status to participate in the war, and despite not being built for fighting she was a worthy adversary simply by the sheer power of her true devotion to her leader. She was always prepared to die for the cause...

No, not for the cause. For _her_.

"Pearl," she'd said to her with cautious disapproval and the sweet, sincere apprehension that the gem could never truly believe coming from anyone else. "How many times are you going to risk your life for me?"

"As many times as I must," she replied, taking a knee and bowing her head.

"You've given up so much to help me already..." Rose began skeptically, trailing off in thought.

"I'd do it again," Pearl reassured her, the head descending further.

"Yes, I know you would... but please, this was never what I wanted. So many have died already, and as precious as each life was, I'm not sure I could forgive myself for losing you in such a way."

Pearl perked up instantly, taking in the concerned etched into the features gazing down at her. Her heart fluttered as her face flushed luminescent blue. Each time she sacrificed herself for Rose, she knew that her usual strict composure had no hand in her actions. It was all emotion eclipsing her steadily elevating skill-set. Even so, she could never regret it. This moment, that look... it only strengthened the resolve. Hearing that she too was cared for in return, and above so many others who had valiantly served and fallen, was enough to put her vision under water.

"I will be your knight," Pearl insisted, lowering her head more so to conceal the flow of tears from her gracious master.

"I can't let you do this. I forbid it."

"Why... Why won't you let me show you my gratitude and let me do just this one thing for you? You... _This_ means everything to me."

"My Pearl," she whispered with the very trace of a sad smile tucked into the corners of her lips, outreaching her hand. "Your life is still so fresh and new compared to mine. To have it end here, in a place like this, and all because of me... I could never forgive myself. Maybe that's a selfish way to say it, especially when I'm the one that asked for your help..."

"No, of course not! You're..."

She caught and held her warm, dusty pink stare and no more words were needed. As Pearl accepted her hand both understood, to their dismay, that neither would possibly concede. Yet still life was so filled with passion, energy, and the lust for merely one last moment like this.

* * *

In autumn the petals were dried and their dance listless. The beauty and vigor they had once commanded so effortlessly faded with the turning seasons. There was a chill in the air, one that pierced to the core as Pearl captured a single, parched leaf of pink beneath her lanky fingers. It hadn't even the will to struggle in the gusts of air which passed through the crumpling, skeletal-like vein. Her heart sunk as she opened her palm, watching the defeated blossom drop ungracefully to her feet. She knew it would decompose and disappear with time, returning to the earth that which it had drawn to thrive. It was an infinite cycle after all; of death and rebirth that no living thing could escape.

Pearl was left feeling quite helpless at the disappearance of Rose. She had so willingly adopted the responsibility of the latter, even at the expense of her own existence, that it was almost unfathomable there was no physical enemy she could defeat in order to save her. Instead she watched and waited with a horrible, anxious patience as the day that Rose Quartz would cease to speak, to laugh, to exist, drew nearer. It seemed that a permanent sacrifice might have been made after all.

If only she had properly acknowledged that human as the liability he was, perhaps it could have been different. Why couldn't Rose share with her the attentions and affections she so readily invested in Greg? They could have transcended time together. They could have shared the world. No, instead she chose a human whose life was as fragile, shallow, and ultimately hopeless as the aged petals showering the dirt on the ground. Instead, she allowed herself to become infected with his mortality.

Pearl wanted to be angry in her grief. For a while, she preferred to imagine that she was. For certain, it was easier than facing the painfully human amount of preoccupied jealousy and betrayal she felt. Still, at the root of it all was that overwhelming desire she could never shake; that feeling of loyalty and above all, of love. Even Greg couldn't steal this part of Rose from her. No one could. Her heart welled up with disdain for her own continuing life. Only now that the object of her deepest affections was gone did she realize just what she had surrendered to stay at her side... but now Rose was gone and still Pearl remained. How could this be? She was supposed to be able to endure _anything_ for her... and yet somehow it wasn't enough to save her, through all her passion and devotion, love and loyalty.

Then there was Steven...

While Steven was surely just as much human as he was gem, the half that was gem was not just _any_ gem; it was _her_. She could never let her down. She would care for Steven and teach him the ways of the Crystal Gems and of that breathless dignity Rose's presence dictated in his mother's absence. Sometimes her heart was ready to burst when he spoke too kindheartedly, wondering if she was inside him and sending her a message that she was watching, analyzing. Often she could not resist standing over him as he slept, envisioning her in his place under the moonlight shadows that cast over his peacefully slumbering face.

There were dark moments that she quietly almost resented him; a constant reminder of how she had failed Rose. It was his very existence that robbed hers, but inwardly she knew this was no fault of his own. Nonetheless in private when there was only herself and her thoughts, these phantoms of indignation haunted her. More often than not, they began a cycle of their own beginning with guilt and ending in that same gut-wrenching grief that mimicked the initial anguish of losing her all over again. Trapped inside her horrible prison of faithfulness and undying commitment, she felt that perhaps this was the cross assigned to her to keep Rose's memory alive, grasping at anything that could keep her from slipping away.

If only, if only...

* * *

Sometimes in spring when the world began anew, Pearl was tempted to reach out to pluck the new buds from the branches. Their perfume triggered longing and filled her with a soothing familiarity that left her both thrilled with the sudden burst of emotion and melancholy in its aftermath. Nevertheless, she would not- _could_ not- indulge herself. It was so long ago she had felt that she could cradle the world in her hands by simply holding a soft, falling petal against her pale flesh. She was older and more learned now. They would shrivel and they would die, leaving behind the tree from whence they came in time for the cold, harsh winter. She would not take them into her hands again...

Rather, Pearl would wait until they bloomed and swirled once more in the gentle summer breeze, prepared to passionately dance with tears in her sadly smiling eyes as a beautiful, pink shower embraced her every movement.


End file.
